


Prowess of an Abondoned Prodigy

by BirdstarOfSkyclan



Series: One Shots, Short stories, and Possible Full Fics [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Cunning Harry Potter, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdstarOfSkyclan/pseuds/BirdstarOfSkyclan
Summary: I wrote this in like, ninth grade and It is literally just another generic cookie-cutter WBWL fic.It's not even complete and it probably won't be unless quite a few want to see it written, and make it very clear, in a polite manner, in the comments.
Series: One Shots, Short stories, and Possible Full Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809976
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	1. The Light's Failings on a Prodigy

“Avada Kedavra!” With that spell, the babysitter fell to the ground, dead, and Voldemort stepped into the Nursery. The first twin, Allen, had fiery hair like his mother, and his father’s eyes. He was bawling up something awful, caterwauling into the room otherwise devoid of sound.

The other child, however, Harry Potter, he was simply staring—eerily silent—at the Dark Lord. Dark hair and piercing green eyes. His eyes narrowed in his infantile face and he seemed to stare straight through Voldemort to Tom Riddle, hidden within.

It unnerved the Dark Lord greatly. “So you must be the one the prophecy spoke of. Too bad you never got the chance to fight back, the nerve you have would have amused me greatly, had you retained it. Avada Kedavra!”

The green spell rushed towards the child but just before it hit, the child blinked from its eerie trance and the spell had barely touched him before it rebounded and hit the Dark Lord, throwing him into the wall and blowing a massive hole in the roof and leaving a scar on the boy’s collarbone. The falling rubble hit Allen and left a ‘V’ shaped gouge on his cheek.

Not thirty minutes later had James and Lily returning after their night out and immediately floo calling Dumbledore once they saw the state of their roof. They all ran together to the nursery and saw both boys alive and well. When Dumbledore went to inspect them, he saw the scar and immediately reassured the Potters that Allen was the prophesied child.

James and Lily celebrated and cooed over their ‘little saviour’ all the while leaving little Harry in his crib all alone. They wouldn’t come to get him until hours later, and by then the entire Wizarding World had heard the news.

They toasted “The Dark Lord is dead! To Allen Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived!”

It started on Harry’s fourth birthday. He woke to a loud explosion downstairs and he got up, walking down to hear the entire family—and a lot of press and nobility, all notorious light families—singing, “Happy Birthday dear Allen, Happy Birthday to you!” He recoiled from the door as if it were a rabid dog.

_ ‘They forgot about me! That, or they did it on purpose. With them likely the latter.’ _ See, they hadn’t ever really played with Harry like they did Allen, never really showed love as they did for Allen. Creeping back up to his room, Harry vowed to become better, to become someone nobody could forget.

Seven days later had Harry in the deepest, dustiest corner of the Potter library reading a book titled ‘The Mind and Magic: How to find your Core.’ It detailed how to find your magical core and how to use it to form a coloured light in your hands. It was surprisingly easy. He mastered making the light in two days and had moved on to Occlumency sn theory-based legilimency, taking only a few short weeks to sort through his four years of memories.

Building a mindscape like a forest all rabbit Trails, Burrows, & the tallest of trees buried like Atlantis beneath the deepest of seas, and within that Forest a single rabbits warren held a tunnel to a library rather than a promise of throats torn. Within that library, some books held perils, some weapons, some cages, but some held parselscript-disguised memories in their pages. With nought else to do, he was done he was through so upwards and out of his mind he then flew.


	2. Four Years Before Hogwarts

At age 7, Harry finally mastered 4th-year curriculum wandlessly. for his birthday this year, James and Lily plan to get Allen a wand. Not Harry, just Allen. He watched them plan this ages ago.

~

“As the chosen one, Allen will need to begin training early, so I should just forget him a wand at 7 and begin teaching him.” Albus Dumbledore was sitting in a chair arms crossed on the dining table in front of him as James and Lily nodded along. “we can set up a schedule for the order to come over and teach him in the areas that they're proficient in.” He kept talking and James and Lily just kept nodding. And then we come to today. the birthday. Harry had long ago broken into the potions lab in the basement and stolen cauldrons and ingredients. Not really a notable feat since everyone in the Potter Manor avoided the lab like the plague. but today he figured that he could Brew in the lab since everyone would be at the party.

He'd been selling his potions for years in Knockturn, underhanded deals really. Buying from a child allows Shady characters to avoid unwanted questions that a real Potions Master would ask. He had made quite the pretty Galleon. He even bought his own floo powder so it is parents would notice their stores getting lower as he came and went. sure maybe he overcharged for his potions a little more than he needed to, but his potions were still cheaper than a normal apothecary’s. And he had been brewing wolfsbane, vampiric soothers, and pain relievers since he was  _ five and a half _ , for  _ Merlin's _ sake. He deserved an extra sickle or two for his effort. He even did requests, there was actually a waiting list.

He'd used the Black metamorphmagus gift and a set of glamours and built himself quite the reputation down Knockturn Alley. His most frequent customer had even told him of an offshoot of the alley where he could sell his potions from regularly. 

But anyway, back to July 31st, 1987 everyone was at the party and Harry was brewing the Wolfsbane for next week ‘till the full moon; he was so engrossed in his brewing that he didn't have the door open or the approaching footsteps until the person spoke.

“Wolfsbane? Are you brewing this for the mangy wolf upstairs? Should you even be attempting to brew this at all? This potion is well above the skill level of a child.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to the side, landing on the man's face. his eyes narrowed as he said, “I don't think you'll find many potions that are outside of my skill level anymore. I've been brewing everything from pain relievers for Dark creatures to blood adoption potions for Gringotts to Felix Felicis for myself since I was five and a half. Had to have money for clothes after all.”

“Shouldn’t your parents have covered that?” The man was stumped, the boy was obviously Lily's child. “what's your name?”

“My parents don't care for much more than their precious boy-who-lived-to-be-a-berk, and it's polite to give your name first.”

To say the man was shocked was an understatement, now that was snark he could respect. “Severus Snape, Potions Master, and Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Do call me Severus, it’s nice to meet another potions prodigy.”

The boy responded in kind, “Harry James Potter, Self-taught Apprentice, Knockturn Alley brewer ‘Trinity,’ forgotten twin of Allen Potter, and Bounty Hunter ‘Emerald Phoenix.’ Do call me Harry.” The Potions Master’s eyes flew wide.

“Bounty Hunter? At your age? Why on Earth did you feel the need to do that?”

“Well, you see, my parents never really acknowledged me like they do Allen. they spend all their time on their little boy Saviour not even realizing that it was truly me in the prophecy. Allen doesn't remember that night, but I do, I made sure of that when I practice my occlumency. That night, Allen was crying, louder than I ever heard him cry before. But I was silent, and my silence and something unnerving Voldemort found in my gaze led him to attack me first. They’re coddling the wrong child but no one would believe me if I told them, not that I want that coddling, the fame. It will only lead to more problems down the road, people associating with me because of fame rather than myself. I'd rather have someone associate with me because of my talents then because of something I barely remember. I'm glad I remember, but Allen, he's taking praise for something he doesn't.”

“At this point, I'd really rather work with the Dark Lord than I would work with Albus Dumbledore. That man's the source of all my problems. As it stands, Allen's getting wand today. Not me, just Allen. Which was Dumbledore's idea while my parents just nodded along like good little sheep. But anyway back to the point, the ministry offers an excessive bounty for wanted criminals. Not one of them expects you use muggle weapons like knives or throwing darts. I’ve taken down countless criminals and brought them to the ministry I've made so many galleons off of that business it's ridiculous. but, I made sure never to take down a Death Eater that I knew was a Death Eater. Because their ideas, short of murdering all half-bloods and muggleborns, were actually pretty good for the Wizarding World in that we would stay separate from the Muggles who would literally bomb us into Oblivion if we revealed ourselves.”

“Fair enough,” said Severus, wide-eyed. “how often have you been hurt and had to treat yourself because your parents never realized.”

“ More times than I can count. I don't even get mad anymore, I just have to wait four more years until I get to Hogwarts. I've actually got a counter in my room that I spelled onto the wall.”

“Won’t it be suspicious if Emerald Phoenix disappears the year you go to Hogwarts?”

“That's where my animagus form comes in, I'm a Black Phoenix. I can teleport through Hogwarts’ wards with my flames.” 

“Would it be suspicious to anyone if you disappeared for a few days? I could use a brewing partner.”

“What about the fact that I'm a child?” The boy shot back.

“I think you've more than proven that you're mature enough to brew. I'd like to show you some of my potions.”

“Isn’t that your livelihood? Your potions?”

“We both know the war isn’t over just because Dumbledore says it is so. Most of the wizarding world thinks the sun shines out his ass anyway. It doesn’t matter how twisted and backward his ideas are, he’s the light paragon, he has a Phoenix.”

At that, the boy's eyes filled with mirth as he added another ingredient to the potion. “No, he doesn’t.”

Snape’s eyes flashed, “what do you mean, ‘he doesn’t?’”

“Fawkes isn’t his, not anymore. Hasn’t been for years. I met him when he flamed into my room when I was five. Apparently, Dumbledore has been straying further and further from the light each day, and finally fell into blackness just a few months ago. Since then, Fawkes hasn’t truly been loyal to him, the man just doesn’t know it.”

“ _ Really _ now?” Severus pushed.

“Indeed,” Harry smiled a knowing smile. “In fact, Fawkes’ flayed bond to the old coot tainted him. He’s slowly but surely becoming a Stained Phoenix and has joined me, as my familiar. Though, which side I’m on will depend on who could offer me better; the light isn’t doing so good for offerings at the moment.” The party upstairs had begun to quiet down at this point and the Wolfsbane was finished, allowing Harry to begin bottling it and setting it into 7 phial sets for his clients, labelling the ones who had already paid.

“Well that was certainly interesting, but I do believe I have to go now the party’s dying down. I won’t be taking any of your ingredients, Harry. Do write soon, if you can; the offer of a brewing companion is still open.” The dark professor said as they both walked back upstairs to the floo. When they arrived, Harry answered.

“Then I should hope to write soon. Merry met, Severus, I look forward to brewing with you.”

“Merry met, Harry, and I as well.” With that Severus flooed back to ‘Spinner’s End.’

After that, Harry changed his face to that of Trinity. Harry then grabbed his potions and his floo powder and stated very clearly, “Trinity’s Affinity,” then quieter in parsel, “Potion masters must be sharp of both wit and knives,” and was whisked away to a small storefront at the junction between Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley. Several people waited outside and their eyes flashed honey-amber when they saw the boy.

The first to step forward was a man he recognized as the alpha of the small pack that always pre-paid for their Wolfsbane, so they were always notified when it was done. This was thanks to an ingenious charmed ring he’d created, which warmed on the hand of its wearer when they had a reserved potion ready for pickup. If you then touched the ring with the tip of your index finger, it would display in glowing words above it the name of the potion or potions ready. He offered this for only a few sickles to any customer that wished to pre-order something, if they did not want it, he sent them a notification owl.

The man, named coincidentally James Raven, stepped forward to greet him. “Hello again, Honorary Pack Alpha Trinity, I hope your hunts have been successful and your endeavors beneficial.”

“They have indeed, Pack Alpha Raven, it is good to see you again.”

“Got any news while the pack browses for potions? Any more on the supposed Berk-Who-Lived?” A wolf barked a sharp laugh from the potions shelves, that name had become something of an inside joke or a story told only to those that frequented his shop. They don’t know how he knows what he does, Trinity thinks they believe he’s a seer.

“Ah, as a matter of fact, Allen Potter is coming to Diagon Alley to get a wand today. Just him, not his twin.”

“He has a twin?” The wolf’s eyes sparked conspiratorially. Harry had told the man who he was long ago. The Alphas of all the packs knew, just not any other wolves. It was when the Alphas got together and made him an Honorary Alpha, one of the pack Peers, they all found it hilarious, but it enraged them that the Potters would neglect their own pup. The other wolves were now listening in, interested in this unknown fact about the Potter family, and why they covered it up.

“Indeed, he does. The parents don’t talk about him much, because he’s supposedly never done any accidental magic, they think he’s a squib. But I have it on good authority that they just don’t pay close enough attention to the boy, that they neglect him, and that they passed all his infantile accidental magic off as Allen’s. They usually—and successfully—pass him off as nonexistent.”

One of the Werewolves, Harold Thruset, growled as they set their potion selection on the counter. “That’s despicable.”

“Oh, but it’s not just them, it’s their friends too. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, and that bloody idiot Albus Dumbledore.”

“Bah! Lupin! I knew he was bad, it was obvious when he joined Dumbledore and his merry band of ass-kissers, but this is too much!”

“If you see him near the packs, keep him out. Though, keep in mind that is a suggestion, not an order.”

“A suggestion we’re glad to follow,” replied James, and the wolves paid for their potions.

~~~

After he closed the shop,—it was only open on July 31 for a few hours, and that’s only if he had potions to deliver—he turned out of his shop and down to the wand shop of Knockturn Alley,  _ Elderyew Wands _ owned by Orion Elderyew, who insisted upon being called Ory.

“Ah, Mr Trinity! Fancy seeing you, finally here for more than just talking?”

“Indeed Ory, I need two wands, in fact. One for Trinity, and the other for E.P.”

“Ah, yes. Of course, come this way and I can get you sorted.” They went through the door at the back of the small shop and he found himself in a hall of rows upon rows of woods, cores, liquids, and focus stones. “Find the ones that call to you, and group them how they’re meant to be grouped. Multiple Woods, cores, and liquids are quite common.

Harry ended up with quite a few uncommon collections, The first Wand, Trinity’s wand was Bloodwood and Silverwood, with at quad-core braid of Werewolf Fur, Thunderbird Feather, Nundu Heartstring, and Acromantula Hair, soaked in Vampire blood and Runespoor Venom. The focus stone, an alchemical stone of Harry’s own creation, the same for the other wand, but a different stone.

The focus in the Bloodwood wand was one for potions, it created a stabilizing agent that could stabilize most if not all potions and give them a set of above-perfection qualities atop added strength. It was how he became renowned for quality even seasoned potion master prodigies could not match.

The second wand, Emerald Phoenix’s wand was Yew and Elder with a melded core of a Phoenix Feather, Basilisk Fang, Unicorn Tail, and Thestral Tail, soaked in Unicorn Blood, freely given and Dementor’s Blood. The Focus stone in this wand made poisons, many different poisons, and their antidotes, even basilisk’s venom.

The wands would be ready in about 3 ½ hours, so Harry would have to come back. The wands and holsters to hold them cost Harry roughly 70 Galleons, which was about ⅔ of what the Werewolves spent on Potions for after the full moon. The wolves always got a discount, but always bought extra in case a rogue werewolf came to run with their pack for a night. 

Harry then went to Gringotts, putting on his actual face as Harry Potter. He had enough memories for them to emancipate him on the grounds of neglect.

The second he walked up to the door he nodded in greeting to the guards, who were no longer shocked at his display of proper decorum. He walked to a familiar open teller and said, “Hello, Grinhork, and may your gold ever grow. I need to see King Ragnok if possible and Cart Goblin Griphook.” He was on good standing with the king, they went way back.

“May your enemies fall, Mr. Potter. The head Goblin is open at the moment, but always open for you, but on what grounds do you need to see him so that he might gain the appropriate paperwork?”

“Emancipation, on grounds of Neglect. Article 329-14 of the latest Gobin Treaty. Any Wizard child in need of aid can go to the Goblin Nation, and, if sufficient evidence is supplied—be it memory, physical marks, or written proof—the Goblin Nation may emancipate the child in any country represented in the ICW. If such a decision is made, it is irreversible by any wizarding government, on pain of breaking the treaty with the Goblin Nation.” The entire bank had gone silent, staring at the child who so candidly threw around the topic of emancipation and neglect as if it were a minor inconvenience, a common occurrence in his day-to-day life.

“Indeed, it is as you’ve said. You have irrefutable proof, I presume?”

“Of course. Besides the fact that I’ve been handling my own finances, buying my own clothes, and making my own money since I was 5 ½, which the Goblin Nation has a record of; I possess countless memories where they looked at me, looked through me as if I wasn’t there, and then babbled along like toddlers after Allen’s delusional grandiose adventures.”

“Good, that means the process is even speedier than before.” The Goblin King had approached from behind Grinhork.

“Than before?”

“Business for my office, not for nosy wizards.”

“Ah,” Harry said, glancing disdainfully at the other magical families in the bank. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to eavesdrop? Ah, by the way, if any of that gets out before it’s gotten the okay from me, I will find the one that did it and make them pay.” He let his magic swirl around him, and the families shivered, knowing he meant it.

Once in the office, Ragnock spoke as both he and Griphook took a seat behind a desk, and Harry in front of it. “Alright, so I’ll be blunt. James Potter disowned you about a week ago. He came here with Lily Potter and Albus Dumbledore to finalize the paperwork. They were loosely planning on dumping you with someone else till Hogwarts age.” Harry’s jaw dropped, his mind raced.

“As he did not declare a guardian for you once you were disowned, it acts as a quasi-emancipation, until you either claim a lordship or are taken in by another family. I’m going to assume you want an inheritance test done?”

“Yes.”

“Good, you can also claim any lordship in your family that James Potter has not claimed. This is because he would have to disinherit you as well because he merely cut you off from inheriting what he or Lily Potter have at this moment, and the family name, as you are currently Harry James Noname. He also allowed you to keep his old trust vault, not realizing his parents had been generous with that vault, giving us goblins the right to invest as we see fit. There is a lot of money in that vault and you can find it on this test. Three drops of blood in the bowl please.”

And he did just that. Once the words appeared on the paper Harry was shocked into silence.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Inheritance Test

Name: Harry James Potter

Date of Birth: July 31, 1980

Parents:

James Potter(Father); Lily Potter nee Evans(Mother)

Godparents:

Sirius Black(Blood Adopted); Minerva McGonnagal

Titles rightfully Claimable:

Gryffindor(Magic); Slytherin(Conquest); Ravenclaw(Magic)

Peverell(Over-claimed twice; Paternal & Conquest)

Wintersdrik; Helsborne; Lycaon (Bequest to Harry James Potter)

Travent (Bequest to Trinity)

Black(Eldest Blooded Heir currently deemed unfit, passed by magic to true)

McKinnon*; MacFuthrun*; Thafters*; Keltind*; Juhntul*

Merlin(Claimable by Magick’s Right of Passage)

_ *(Claimable by Defeat &/or incarceration of the Lord) _

Properties

Hogwarts (Hufflepuff heirs died out all the remaining hold ⅓)

Gryffindor Castle; Lion’s Den; Godric’s Hollow(Whole Village)

Slytherin’s Keep; Chamber of Secrets; Basilisk’s Cottage; Peverell Manor

Wintersdrik Townhouse; Wintersdrik Cottage; Wintersdrik Wears(Clothing Store)

Helsborne Manor(Vampire Dwelling); Lord Helsborne House

Lycaon Forests(Werewolf territory); (Several other Werewolf sanctuaries)

Ravenclaw Castle; Ravenclaw Libraries(Hogwarts); Raven’s Nest; Eagle’s Aerie

Black Manor; 12 Grimmauld Place, London; Moony’s Cottage

Travent Breweries(Apothecary); McKinnon Manor

MacFuthrun Cottage, MacFuthrun Townhouse

Thafters Penthouse; Keltind Apartments; Juhntul’s Artifacts

Business Shares:

Daily Prophet 37 %; Witch Weekly 72%

Juhntul’s Artifacts 100%; Travent Breweries 89%

Keltind Apartments (Muggle London) 58% ;  Wintersdrick Wears 100%

Nimbus 42%; Bolt Brooms 49%

Vaults

_ Founders Vaults _ 2-5; 9,563,935,214 Galleons 5,683,032 Sickles, 345,245,764 Knuts

Bequest Vaults 679, 998, 1023, 1245; 458,233 Galleons 678,000 Sickles 430 Knuts

Conquest Of Imprisonment: 1,543,644 Galleons 567,779 Sickles 450 Knuts

Black: 69,532,234 Galleons 43,667 Sickles 9,230 Knuts

Merlin: 1,500,000,000 Galleons

Peverell: 54,432,245 Galleons 5,454 Sickles 47,487 Knuts

Harry Potter(Formerly James Potter) Trust: 150,000 Galleons 15,000 Sickles 6,000 Knuts

Artifacts and the like in all vaults but Lycaon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well then, I do believe I’ll be claiming those lordships.”

“Of course, Mr. Potter. Might I ask a question? Will you continue to brew?”

“Yes, I’m going to continue to brew. Brewing is my escape, that and fighting.” The Goblins smirked knowingly at that. After Harry was done putting on the rings the goblins spoke.

“Which name do you prefer?”

“Travent, Harrison Trinity Travent.”

“Very well, Lord Travent. Good day to you, and may your gold ever grow.”

“Take a small fee from the Potter Vault and lose the emancipation notifications going out to my…  _ parents. _ May your coffers never empty.”

“Will do, Lord Travent.”

As Harry walked out of the bank, the lingering families stared at him, and he just kept on walking.


	3. Interlude 1 Emerald Phoenix and Pet Shopping

You might wonder what Emerald Phoenix gets up to on their missions, right? Wonder no longer.

Harry was out, dressed as Emerald Phoenix, and he was on the hunt. He was after someone by the name of Kelvick Juhntul, an assassin who tortures and kills his victims, not even giving them the mercy of the Killing Curse to end it. He had quite a large amount of money because of this and had earned himself a seat on the Wizengamot, not that he used it, being on the run and all.

The guy had left a magic trail though. Mage sense came in handy for that one, as it allowed him to hunt the man by his magic’s smell like a bloodhound. He had cornered the man in an alleyway, and he was wanted dead or alive, so Harry was going to experiment. The poisonous alchemical stone on the end of his wand could make all known and several unique poisons, but he had never tested the strongest, the one that pulled from the alchemical stone’s innate power. So, Harry tied the man up and used the stone to put the poison into an emptied potion vial.

When fed the poison, the man just...  _ dropped dead instantly. _ No foaming, no jerking, the second the poison was swallowed, the man just dropped dead. After several magical tests, Harry determined that the poison’s magic cleaned up after itself, as there was no trace of a magical cause of death on the man.

He took the body in, and of course, collected the reward, and left with considerably heavier pockets. Still no one the wiser, and another article on the Prophet about his accomplishments(murders and captures).

Now, two days later, he was in Diagon Alley, as Harrison Travent, a different face by only a few features and colour shades. He was wearing an emerald robe, Black and deep blue clothes, and a locket he had pinched from Grimmauld Place last time he was over. It was inlaid with a serpentine ‘S’ and had a pretty ‘dark artefact’ feel to it. It was probably safe to assume it was Voldemort’s because nothing else was that dark except a Horcrux, or so Harry had read.

In other words, Harrison was a madman and was keeping it, because he liked the man and wanted to keep that as a safeguard. Blackmail material if you will. He walked into Diagon Alley that day looking to buy himself a new broom, not that he couldn’t craft one, but he was going to customize this one for Emerald Phoenix to use on missions. Walking down the street, he was minding his own business when a blur shot at him from the side and he caught it by… the scruff of its neck? In his hand, hanging by its neck, was a little kneazle kitten, but this one was different than your typical one. It had wings.

“I’m so sorry, I… wait, a kid?”

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Migretare, that I am a lord, Lord Travent.”

The man’s eyes widened a fraction and he spoke frantically, “terribly sorry, sir. Your apparent age is misleading.”

“It is for most,” Harry replied dryly smiling in a manner that left the man swallowing in fear. “If I may ask,” Harry began, lifting the kneazle-like cat into his arms, “what is this?”

“It doesn’t have a name, currently. I got a breeder’s license from the ministry for breeding non-hazardous to semi-hazardous creatures, hybrids included. I bred a Persian kneazle with a Fwooper…  _ somehow _ . It was strange, but the end result is a kneazle that can sing and fly. Their song is also harmless. Though, their claws can do damage once they grow. The kneazle was already a hybrid, though I don’t know with what. The thing might have some crazy powers, I was gonna get rid of it. I didn’t know the mother was a natural hybrid until recently.”

“I’ll take it off your hands.”

Mr. Migretare’s eyes shot open and he gaped for a moment before recovering. “Are you sure? That would be wonderful, but can you handle it?”

“I have a more than capable hand, sir.” They went back and the ownership of the nameless fluffball was transferred to Harry, and the little lord went on his way, to Eyeclops Owl Emporium. He walked through the doors to find himself a personal owl, a task which was long overdue. Bats and birds or every kind fluttered overhead and perched on every surface, but a single owl drew his eye. He held out his arm, and the owl flew to his arm immediately. “Hedwig,” Harry decided, “that’s what I’ll name you.” So they went on their merry way, Harrison got his broom and went home to the labs in the Manor’s basement, two companions in tow.


	4. The Interim Four Years

The first letter to Severus Snape went as follows:

Severus Snape,

I do hope no dunderheads have been giving you a problem, but you do teach, so that might be too much. At any time in the near future that you need a brewing aid for anything, including Hogwarts infirmary potions, just send a missive and in red ink write E.P. in the top left corner, it will flame to me with no need for an owl. The Berk-Who-Lived is still annoying as ever and I  _ need _ an out. I don’t have any potions to sell at the moment, so I am free to brew however long you need me. 

Lord Harrison Trinity Travent

(Formerly Harry James Potter)

Lord Hogwarts

The reply came mere minutes after the original note was flamed to the potions master, and it looked like this:

Harrison Travent,

I admit the dunderheads are as annoying as always, but then again, what would a school be without them? I do in fact need to brew for the infirmary and could use a partner. Especially one who brews at the quality of stock that you do. Feel free to flame over in, say, thirty minutes, at which time I will be waiting in my potions classroom, you know the one, and I will take you to my private labs.

Severus Snape

Potions Master

Hogwarts Potions Professor

And so they went. They would meet near regularly throughout the school year, though when Harry was ten, he was first confronted by one of the staff. Thankfully it wasn’t Lily, who taught Muggle Studies, or James, who taught DADA. Nor was it Remus Lupin, who taught Care of Magical Creatures. No, they were already eating at the head of the great hall and food fell from Remus’s mouth as he recognized Harry’s scent.

It was Minerva McGonagall, and she only saw him because they were headed to breakfast and Severus had simply had the house elves set an extra plate next to his in the great hall, suggesting that Harry eat with the teachers, while the students were at their tables on account of him being there to actually assist and not as a student.

McGonagall saw them as they entered the great hall from the front rather than the teacher’s doors because she was dealing with a dispute between some of the older lions. “Severus, who is that? You can’t just bring children over whenever you want. And since when do you watch young children? I never pegged you for a babysitter.” The entire hall went silent at the word ‘babysitter.’

Harry was the one that answered. “My name is Lord Harrison Travent, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, and I do believe that if you sat and watched instead of voicing your opinion, you would realize that you are more likely to need a babysitter than I. So, I do appreciate the sentiment, but I am not an ignorant toddler. Unlike your bloody saviour.” He murmured the last sentence so that only Severus could hear it.

It startled a short laugh out of the usually dour man, and that, in turn, unnerved the entire student population within hearing distance. Which was the entire hall, because everyone had gone silent to hear his jibe. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to eat before we get back to brewing the infirmary’s potions for the month.”

Two identical first-year Gryffindors let out a long whistle before they clapped slowly, and dramatically. Then they spoke.

“And the new...” A grin.

“Lord Harrison” A Cheshire grin.

“Has bested the mother lion…”

“What a shock!” Two exaggerated expressions of surprise, matching perfectly adorned their faces.

“Who are they?” Harry asked Severus as they approached the staff table. The murmuring had begun as everyone speculated as to why Harry, a child, was present with the dour and hated potions professor.

“The Weasley twins, Fred and George. None of the teachers, nor even their own mother can tell them apart.”

“Really? But it’s so easy to tell them apart! How can their own mother not tell that?” Harry was outraged, but then he remembered. “Wait, it’s the same way my parents could ignore my existence so long it’s like they no longer had a son; now they don’t. Not that they’ll notice until my Hogwarts letter is sent with their precious saviour’s.”

“Well, it doesn’t justify it, but she does have five other children, three of whom live in the house and are her responsibility.” They were sitting down now and serving themselves food.

“My parents only had one, but that was more on the effect that they just didn’t try. I wonder if Molly Weasley is trying or not?”

“I don’t know,” replied the dark man, “but those boys are the kind of pranksters I can respect. They don’t target individuals or even Slytherin house as a whole. They prank equally throughout Hogwarts, unlike your…  _ Father. _ ”

“Let’s just call him ‘the cow’ and be done with it.”

“Indeed.”

“Those boys sound like someone I would want to invest in. They look to have promise if they’re already developing their own joke tools. I might even offer to brew for them at a discount if they continue to show prowess. I know the financial situation of that family and I know how hard it is for a child to get off the ground starting with nothing.”

“I’ll let you know if they continue to improve.”

“Severus, my dear boy, who is that child you’ve brought to breakfast? I can’t place where I’ve seen him before.”

Harry answered before Severus had the chance. “Well Headmaster, seems you’re not as all-knowing as the Magical World seems to believe, and you might be going batty in your old age.” Severus snorts here, “unfortunately for you, Severus is not at liberty to hand that information out at this time. All you need to know is that I am a brewer, known for my quality, whom Severus trusts to help him meet the ever-expanding brewing demands of the infirmary to support the hopeless dunderheads of Gryffindor and some of the more avid pranksters and targets of the other houses.”

Severus had his hand in front of his mouth now, and you could tell he was slamming on his occlumency shields in hysterics. That is if you knew him well enough. The silence after Harry’s remark was godly. Harry’s grin? Unholy.  _ ‘Payback’s a bitch,’ _ Harry thought.  _ ‘A right bitch.’ _

After that, it just became commonplace for Harry to eat in the Great Hall with Severus instead of in the dungeons and potions fumes. It was purely for comfort and  _ definitely _ not to see the minute aggravated twitch of Albus Dumbledore’s face when he tried to put a name to the face and failed.

His parents had  _ still not figured it out. _ Even though Allen had come to Hogwarts a year early to stay in the teachers' quarters and get extra tutoring—not that he paid attention, anyways—before his first real Hogwarts year. Still, no one saw it. You would think it was spelled that way if Harry had not had regular purging potions. So he just went on, kept on pushing; to them, he didn’t really exist.


	5. Hogwarts Letter

The letter came with Allen’s and one of the house elves had to take it, because his parents were about to burn it, thinking it a mistake. It was still a bit singed.

The envelope read:

Harry J. Potter

Hidden room, East wing

Potter Manor

Scotland

The letter within read:

Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Also enclosed within the envelope was indeed a list of everything needed for Hogwarts from a wand to the textbooks. He penned his acceptance and went into Diagon Alley immediately, flaming to the front of his store and walking straight to Gringotts. He bought a money pouch connected to his trust vault, which James couldn’t touch, and went absolutely crazy.

He bought a trunk that had practically a flat made out of interconnected compartments, all the size of a roughly medium-sized classroom. They were: A potions lab, A bedroom, a Storage Room, A Wardrobe, A Library, An open room he would make into an experimental lab.

Instead of loose parchment, he got bound notebooks, with unending pages. He got quills, yes, but also fountain pens, which he actually found easier. He grabbed all his robes from Twilfitt & Tattings, ignored the apothecary—he was bringing more ingredients than he would ever need, you see—Picked up the books, and a few extras down Knockturn on advanced runic warding for his trunk. Once he had everything (and more) he went to Ollivander’s to get the official wand for ‘Harry James Potter.’

Just his luck the Boy-Who-Lived had to be outside and arguing with Draco Malfoy, of all people.

“Why don’t you run back to Daddy Death Eater? That’s all you ever do, you coward.”

“Oh yeah? Well-”

“Draco!” Harry interrupted before the boy could make the situation worse accidentally. The blonde boy turned to Harry and his eyes lit up in his pureblood mask.

“Harry, how have you been?”

Now, this needs explaining. Harry and Draco had met in the ministry atrium when Lord Malfoy was in a meeting with the minister and hadn’t bothered to take Draco farther than the atrium itself. Harry had just entered to submit a potions patent for filing and saw him wandering around.

He had collected the other boy and brought him with him to file the patent, then brought him back to the atrium and proceeded to talk to the boy until the passing time was nonexistent. They hadn’t stopped talking until Lucius came back out, and that was only because Harry took the time to stand up and berate the man in a public place for leaving a child, however well mannered, unattended.

It caught the attention of many passersby and the man was angered until Harry made his rings visible to only the man himself, showing how many times he was outranked. The man had instantly paled and apologized quietly before rushing off, Draco in tow. During the time they talked Harry had given the boy a little slip of paper with 'Trinity’s Affinity' on it and told him to send any letters there if he wanted to.

They’d kept in contact till now. So he replied to him.

“I’m doing quite well, Draco, and you?”

“Quite well also, I was here to get a wand when the  _ oh so great and mighty Potter Family _ decided to stop and harass my father and allow their son to harass myself.”

“Ah, yes. The Great Berk-Who-Lived.” People behind Harry chuckled, and he turned to see some of his more frequent and talkative customers, including Alpha Raven and Alpha Eagle. Alpha Eagle & Eaglepack were close allies of Ravenpack and frequented Harry’s potions shop.

“Who are you to insult me like that, don’t you know I defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“Really? How could an infant defeat Lord Voldemort? The most feared Dark Lord in history?”

“I dueled him.”

“So, if you dueled him then without a wand, could you do it with me now? Would you be willing to duel? Do you even know any spells that would work? Are you able to perform them?”

Allen smirked, but his eyes held wariness, fear, and nervousness. “Of course I could take you, but why should I have to prove myself to a Death Eater?” His supporters in the crowd growled their agreement, though they were all human.

“Uhhh… I was only fifteen months old when Voldemort disappeared. How the hell am I a Death Eater again? Or is that just a title you assign to anyone who doesn’t explicitly agree with your way of thinking?” The Werewolves and Vampires snarled in satisfaction as Harry smirked. A low chant of, ‘Trinity, Trinity, Trinity, Trinity!’ was slowly growing. “Can your simple mind not comprehend that not all Slytherins are Death Eaters and not all Gryffindors are saints? Merlin was a Slytherin, and he’s hailed as the greatest sorcerer of all time. Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor, and yet he betrayed James and Lily Potter to Voldemort. It is  _ not _ your Hogwarts house that defines you as an adult. It is your  _ choices _ that prove you a valiant hero, or a fraudulent  _ liar.” _

Harry had screamed that last bit, and more and more of the crowd joined the chant. Allen looked like he was trying to be intimidating for a moment, but he just looked constipated. When he saw Harry staring back as indifferent as ever, he shrunk under his gaze.

“We need to go now,” Lily interrupted, grabbing her son and whisking them all away, apparating back to the manor.

Harry turned to the crowd and screamed, “cowards, the lot of them!” The crowd roared back and Harry entered the wand shop with the Malfoy’s.

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” greeted Ollivander. The Malfoy’s eyes shot to me, shock in their depths, and surprisingly visible on their faces.

“Please, Garrick, I’ve told you time and time again that its Harry.”

“Oh, but you’re here on business.”

“Lord Travent then, Mr. Ollivander. If we are to be so formal, please refer to me by my preferred title.”

The cryptic man just nodded and went into the back muttering, “Young Heir Malfoy first.”

“You’re a Potter? A cousin perhaps?”

“Don’t even get me started with that one. I know you know Allen had a twin. You were willingly in with Voldemort, after all.” They all looked towards him, Lord Malfoy looking thoughtful. Lord Malfoy asked him, “And why is the twin of the ‘berk-who-lived’ so hateful towards his own family?”

“I clothe myself, buy my own supplies and indulgences, and I have been since I was five-and-a-half and started brewing my own potions for profit. They disinherited me, leaving me only James Potter’s trust vault, which I’ll admit held a lot but still. If I hadn’t run in and claimed what he hadn’t already, I would be off with nothing to my name, with barely any clothes. They act like I don’t exist!” He finished his mini-rant as Ollivander came back and Draco began testing wands. The whole process went through and once Draco got his wand Ollivander turned to Harry.

“Any feelings, Mr. Travent?”

“Phoenix Feather, light wood, symbolic significance.”

“Ah, Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches. Shares it’s Phoenix core with one other, the one to give you the scar on your collarbone. Brother wand to the Dark Lord’s wand.” The Malfoy’s froze.

“You will be a dear and keep the machinations of a forgotten saviour hidden from the manipulation master won’t you, Ollivander?”

“Of course,” said the man, smiling cryptically.

As the man went to the back to get the wand, the Malfoy’s turned to Harry. “How are you so calm about that. You are a member of a traditionally light family, why do you willingly associate with us? Also, hold on a tick, you’re the real boy who lived?”

“As I said outside, my real family are cowards. That and they left me to take care of myself from a young age, the light’s never really done much for me. That and I’m kinda hunting down all the underground criminals that wanted Voldemort dead.”

Lucius’ eyes practically flew to Harry, “how?”

“Ever heard of Emerald Phoenix?” The man’s eyes widened.

“That’s not possible, the magic they use is all wandless.”

For example, Harry brought up a hand and formed a light in his palm. Ollivander then came back with the wand, cutting Lord Malfoy off from what he was about to say. He handed the wand off to Harry and it sparked, green and gold, red and silver. A symbol of what was and what is. Harry left after that, paying Ollivander and giving the Malfoys an excuse to escape. He didn’t see Draco again until the sorting.


	6. The Train Ride and a Batty Hat

He stepped out onto Platform 9 ¾, his trunk in his pocket and a smirk on his face. He had his Holly and Phoenix feather wand in a holster on his arm, and the other two in a holster on his calf. He had his hood up to cover his face, for the sake of the dramatic reveal later for the older years. He walked up to the train and used his magic to fly his way over the crowd surrounding the Potters in a cloud of green smoke. People pointed and other students ran forward to see a spell they hadn’t before.

This, in turn, disgruntled Allen because the crowd’s attention was off him. He got to the door and who stepped out but Severus Snape himself. All the other students skittered back at least seven feet. Harry chuckled when Severus began swinging around an iron chain like it was a normal thing that people did.

Harry had a really hard time not laughing aloud raucously when students in the crowd started telling him to get away from the ‘dungeon bat’ or he’d regret it. He had his hat on, so no one could really see his face around the hat and the collar of his cloak. He smirked into the fabric and stepped onto the train and through the door to stand next to Snape.

_ ‘Let’s scare ‘em’  _ Harry suggested with legilimency.

_ ‘How?’ _

_ ‘Wrap the chain around my neck and drag me to the nearest empty compartment, blackout the windows and door, and lock the compartment itself with a spell. They’ll be frantic the whole ride.’ _

And they did.

And the reactions? They were  _ hilarious _ .

Have you ever heard a seventeen-year-old screech like a ten-year-old girl? It sounds akin to a banshee. It’s shameful and emasculating. Once the compartment doors were closed and soundproofed they laughed uproariously for minutes, up until the warning whistle blew and everyone rushed to get on the train. Allen was, of course, the last one on the train, having to push through crowds of admirers, only just barely making it onto the train before it began to move.

After a few moments in companionable silence, I looked to the only other wizard in the compartment. “Should we go out under disillusionment charms just to fuck with them? I don’t want them seeing me until my big reveal as Lord Travent, the lion slayer.”

“The lion slayer?” Severus raised one eyebrow with amusement.

“I heard a few students calling me that, even Gryffindors. I rather enjoy the title. After all, it’s not like I’ll go around killing any snakes anytime soon.”

“Fair enough, and I do need to walk the corridors. It’s why I’m on the train after all. I think the old cat almost had a heart attack when I offered to take her shift. I wanted to be on the train when you were, I knew you’d make it entertaining, and I’m probably the only one who would let you get away with literally anything, and likely help you with it.” They put up their charms and went into the hallway, locking the compartment and stalking into the corridor. They made it halfway down the train without incident, but after a few cars, they came across,  _ surprise surprise, _ Allen Charlus Potter, arguing.

“This is my compartment” he whined petulantly while trying to look intimidating. The other students inside looked to be Slytherin second years and a single Ravenclaw third year. They looked beyond done with him. Severus cancelled his charm and drawled loudly, “Mr Potter, if it was your compartment, then I assure you, you would already be sitting within.”

“But it is! There aren’t any other compartments.”

“Are you sure?” I was practically feeding the man the words to say to piss the boy off. “Because I saw several compartments on this train with only one or two students in.”

“But they’re all slimy snakes, I can’t be in their compartments, I’m a Gryffindor.”

_ “More like a Hufflepuff,”  _ I muttered mentally.

“Regardless,” Severus continued as if he hadn’t heard the jibe, “you are not permitted to harass students out of their own compartments because you don’t like the company. Move along Mr Potter, you don’t want detention on your first night at Hogwarts.” Severus swept away and I followed silently, smiling widely with the trademark Black Madness. Once finished, we returned to our compartment and stayed there for the rest of the ride in silence, only buying two chocolate frogs, which were eaten and the cards pocketed.

They hopped off the train after Harry had changed, Severus was busy reading a book during that time, and their hats were on. They walked to the carriages, Harry wishing to avoid the first-year crowd and the boats. When they made it up to the gathering crowd of first years outside the great hall, Severus dropped Harry off with a message of,  _ ‘be sure to leave an impression.’ _

And that he did. As the students filed in, and the hat sang its song, Harry observed the teachers; a rather sorry lot, considering it contained James and Lily Potter, as well as Remus Lupin.

“Potter, Allen.” The name struck Harry out of his scrutiny. The arrogant brat swaggered up to the stool and sat down, and looked to be having an argument with the thing until- “GRYFFINDOR!” The fraud smirked and sauntered over to the screaming red and gold table. McGonagall looked over to her list and seemed to be confused for a moment before calling out, “Potter, Harry.”

Harry was floored, then he snorted, then he outright laughed. “Do you find something funny?”

“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. I prefer the name Harrison Travent, Professor McGonagall, though I used to go by Harry James Potter, I can no longer legally hold that name as Mr Potter disowned me, for literally no disownable offence.” McGonagall looked confused for a moment. “I prefer Lord Harrison Travent, and did none of you know Allen had a twin? You were there at the first birthday party, McGonnagal!” He walked forward and took the hat, sitting it on his head.

``Oh, my! Drop those occlumency shields, I can’t sort you if I can’t hear you!”

Harry chuckled and lowered the shields,  _ ‘that better, Alistair?’ _

_ ‘You know my name?’ _

_ ‘Rude to go to meet someone and not know who you’re meeting.’ _

_ ‘Yes, of course. Well, plenty intelligent, but you don’t hoard knowledge like a Ravenclaw. You’re only loyal and kind to those that have earned it, so Hufflepuff’s out. You’re brave but only when it benefits, but you have a conscience, however skewed. Oh, you plan to aid Riddle now? You’re cunning to have hidden for this long, ambitious to wish to stand by the side of the greatest Dark Lord in history.’ _

_ ‘What can I say? The light ain’t so light. Riddle’s philosophy is better.’  _ The sorting hat laughed aloud at that and smiled its strange smile.  _ ‘Well, you’re more cunning than the master, and your ambition overshadows even Tom Riddle’s, better be—’  _ “SLYTHERIN!”

The Slytherin table cheered, all but the first years, they cheered because they recognized the name and face as the one who told off McGonagall. As he walked over, he heard a first-year ask and a quick ‘I’ll explain later, just clap’ was uttered and they did. The Potter family were silently fuming, Lupin was clapping with a thoughtful expression on his face, and Severus was smirking viciously.

Soon the sorting was over and instead of the usual Slytherin posturing and power plays they relaxed and began telling the tale of Lord Harrison Travent and the elderly Lioness. One Slytherin even dramatized it in a true Arthurian fashion. Eventually, however, the fireside tales had to subside, and the posturing began. Harrison stood outside of the posturing, above it all. Draco had moved to his side and began speaking about the summer trips he didn’t put in his letters.

Harrison smiled as the first year Slytherins were called to follow the prefects. He stayed behind as Severus approached. “Teacher’s aid, Harry?”

“I think I’d like that. It is, after all, a position of power. But what would I be doing?”

“Brewing, like you usually do. Perhaps helping me grade assignments.”

“Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest there?”

“No, and besides, even at eleven you are a better brewer than I am.”

“That, my friend, is thanks to alchemy.”

“Fair enough, but I am going to introduce you to them, as both Potter and Travent, to lessen any confusion and allow you to dispel any rumours.”

“Alright then, let’s go.” We walked up to the wall at the entrance to the common room and Severus said ‘Wiggenweld’ and inside we went.

“Welcome to Slytherin house. First and foremost, do not disgrace our name.” He scowled sourly before continuing, “Here in Slytherin house we have a few rules. One, all arguments must stay here, in the common room, or in the dorms, to the other houses, we display a united front. This leads to rule two. You may have friends or allies or what have you in the other houses, just do not, for any reason—unless it is life-threatening—bring them into this common room.”

“Rule three,” Harry stepped forward as Severus stepped to the side. “If you want or need to break a rule, do  _ not _ get caught. Rule four, punishments given out by the head of house will stay in Slytherin, and will not be assigned in the presence of outsiders. If you get caught, you will be punished, regardless of the Head of House turning a blind eye to obvious signs unless proof is obtained.”

Severus stepped forward again. “This,” he gestured to Harry, “Is Lord Harrison Travent, formerly known as Harry James Potter. He is by no means a light affiliated wizard, nor is he a Dumbledore fan.”

Harry grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘more like Dumbass-bore,’ and The Slytherin Professor continued. “As is a privilege of a professor position, I have designated Lord Travent as a sort of teacher’s aid, or an assistant teacher. He does have the ability to award and deduct points as he sees fit, for any offence if unjustified or of the rule-breaking variety. He is the one to go to, for any year level, if you need to know anything about the class. This will be announced in the first potions class for all houses, so do not be surprised if students from other houses come to the Slytherin table to make inquiries. Understood?” At the round of nods, Severus swept out, cloak billowing behind him. Harry watched him go before turning to the students.

“Alright, dorms are up those stairs,” he began, pointing towards them. “Men are on the left, ladies are on the right. If you need anything within the next few days, come ask me. If Potter harasses you I will be taking points from him, so don’t worry about favouritism, I hate that bastard. Any questions now, before you go to find your dorm nameplate?”

A small blonde girl stepped forward elegantly, “I apologize if it oversteps my right, Lord Travent, but what exactly did you do that convinced Professor  _ Snape _ of all people to make you a teacher’s aid? I mean, it had to be noteworthy.”

“I brew regularly, above NEWT level and at the level of a Potionscraft.”

The first-years eyes blew wide, and they milled about. Harry answered all their questions, and promised to help them if they needed anything in any of their classes, then sent them off to bed. Then he went to his bedroom off of the common room, because of his aid status, and went to bed, looking forward to classes.


	7. Classes Begin and Dark Lords Within

Monday September the second dawned bright and early. Well perhaps not so bright, considering Harry woke up at Six o’clock. He pushed himself out of bed, showered, and dressed in his robes. He grabbed his enchanted bag, which was linked to his trunk, and by that time it was seven fifteen. The other first years had trickled into the common room. Harry strode with purpose to the wall and walked out as the path appeared, the rest of the Slytherin first years following. 

They made it up to the great hall without issue, all of them following Harrison stride for stride, taking a seat at the table where they fit in the hierarchy, for now. Harry sat at the right of the Slytherin King companionably. As a teacher’s aid, he had higher status than the king, and the king knew that. However, Harrison had made it clear that, though he could, he had no intention of attempting to take the position of King. He chatted amicably through breakfast and only stood when he felt a nudge in his mind. He walked up to Severus, who was looking a little more than annoyed at Quirrell’s incessant jabbering, and took the schedules from him. He pulled out the Holly and Phoenix feather wand and charmed the papers to the names and watched as they flew to hover before their owners, leaving only his behind.

The charm wore off as everyone grabbed their papers and read through their schedules. Harry looked at his. Potions, followed by Herbology, then Charms, ending with Transfiguration, and a flying class at three-thirty. A busy day, it seems. He pulled out a charmed notebook, his original potion recipes, and began writing on his latest one, a Nerve Damage Reversal Potion. He sat through the rest of breakfast in silence, listening to the yammering of the Great Hall’s occupants until it was interrupted by a presumptuous shout.

“Hey, Death Eaters, see you in potions. Wonder how long it’ll take for one of you tossers to slip and show your true colors.”

“Mr Potter, that will be fifteen points from Gryffindor for the first offense of unfounded verbal abuse aimed toward another student or group therein. A second offense will double the number of points taken. A third offense will lead to the notification of a teacher and likely subsequent detentions. Do not think to insult anyone under my protection, as a teacher’s aide and a proud snake I will not allow your blind prejudices to interfere in my house morale or pride.”

“You don’t have the authority to do that!”

“Actually,” began Professor Snape, approaching from behind the seething Gryffindor, “he does, as I have made him my teacher’s aide, as I know he can brew better than anyone in this hall, myself included.” Allen was silent, as was the entire great hall, and as Allen opened his mouth to retort, a boy I recognized as a Weasley, the prefect Percy, stood up and called.

“Mr Potter, control yourself. Our house is already in the negative points because of you. Even McGonagall took points because you insulted another first-year yesterday! If you keep going you’ll dig Gryffindor into the ground! Sit back down and eat your breakfast, if not you’ll likely be ostracized! Networking is an important part of Hogwarts; making friends and allies for the future is imperative.”

Snape looked towards the boy and then back at Harry who jerked his head towards the Prefect. Looking back up at the bold Gryffindor Snape said, “Five points to Gryffindor for a very well worded and wise statement. Mr. Weasley, it is good to know you have just as much a way with the spoken word as the written.” The hall froze, every head turning toward Snape and Harry in awe.

“I do believe, Severus, that now would be a good time for the first years to make their way towards their classes. First-year Gryffindors and Slytherins follow me, for potions if you wish. Hufflepuffs, I believe, can follow Susan Bones to Transfiguration, and Ravenclaw follow Lisa Turpin to Charms. Good luck to all of you, and may your magic and minds be sharp.” As Harry walked out of the great hall, followed by the first years, the whole of Slytherin and several upper years from other houses echoed back at him.

“May your quill be sharp and quick, and your wand powerful and precise.” They made their way down to the dungeons and into the classroom and Severus stepped up to the front and allowed everyone to sit down before his face set into a scowl.

At a nod from Harry, he began. “There will be no foolish wand-waving in this class, and alas, some of you may dither to call it magic. Not many can appreciate the subtle beauty of a boiling potion and its shimmering fumes, but if you pay attention I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.” Professor Snape nodded to Harry, who took it on the pass.

“In this class, horseplay will result in heavy point loss and detentions. Potions is a delicate subject and any potion can easily result in death if the wrong ingredient is added or too much or too little of the right one, or even the right amount at the wrong time. Today, you are going to brew a simple potion. Open your books to the table of contents and find the first potion mentioned.”

A Gryffindor from across the room called quietly, “Is it the Boil-Cure potion?” Harry nodded.

“Now since a Gryffindor guessed first, they will get their ingredients first.” There was a shuffle as they followed instructions and the Slytherins followed. “Give your recipes a quick look through. Is there anything to take note of  _ before _ brewing?”

Neville Longbottom’s hand raised from the back, “w-we have t-to take the c-cauldron off the f-fire before adding the porcupine qu-quills?”

“Good, five points to Gryffindor. Now, can anyone tell me why that is?”

Tracey Davis spoke after a moment. “So the quills don’t react with the heated nettles, melting the cauldron?”

“Indeed, five points to Slytherin. Now, keeping all of your steps in mind, remember, or research the preparation terminology and review your recipe and begin brewing. Be mindful of your time, but if you do not finish, Professor Snape or myself will put the potion under stasis for you to finish on Wednesday. Remember the spectrum spell, a flick of the wand and the incantation ‘Umbras’, focusing on colors. Do not point your wand at any cauldron or ingredient in this classroom when performing the spectrum spell, to compensate for failed attempts.”

As the first-years began, Harry sat back with Severus, who watched the class with an unnerving scowl and sharp eyes. “They are too at ease,” began the Potions master, “they will treat it like a game.”

“No, they are relaxed, more than at ease. That means they will not shake when cutting and slip with a knife, or grind too hard and powder instead of crush. They will respect us for your sternness, but will feel more open and less hopeless if a minor mistake is made.” Harrison looked out over the students as they added their crushed snake fangs and stoked their flames. “I know at least one student would have cracked under pressure and made the quill mistake if you had intimidated them as much as you wanted to, but I think this class has got it.”

The dour man looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded his head to the side. “I never thought of it that way,” he said, “I had always so forcefully impressed upon them the severity of a mistake here that I failed to see it was causing them.”

“I wish I could come back for your third and fifth years today, I have a handle on Charms and Transfiguration. I learned more about the Goblin Wars than Binns knows from the Goblins themselves, who were more than willing to give me wizarding history and etiquette lessons in return for a Goblin-made shield from the Potter vaults.”

“Was that wise?”

“I am never going to use any of the hundreds of shields in the Potter family armory vault, but the Goblins are a proud people and the shield is now hung in the Gringotts atrium, to be used by the Goblin King in times of war. The Goblins keep much better historical records than do the wizards.”

Thirty-five minutes’ time was spent mostly in congenial silence as the potions simmered and timers were set by the more knowledgeable students. Some students even brought out books to read ahead for their next classes. Mr. Longbottom in the back raised a hand and asked timidly if Harrison would show him the timer spell. Here, Harrison noticed that the wand Neville was holding had a hard time channeling his magic and vowed to get the boy another one for Yule that was more suited to his core.

Eventually, all the timers went off and books were put away as potions were checked and ingredients added. The whole class finished with acceptable potions, the worst being only five shades off. No one blew up a potion or melted a cauldron.

“Congratulations, students. This is the best batch of Boil-cure I’ve seen in all the time I’ve taught here. You’ve all done well. Thirty points to both Gryffindor and Slytherin for responsibility and precision.” The dark Potions master sat down and Harry wished the Gryffindors luck in their next classes. He followed the Slytherins out the door and called back to Snape, “Remember, be stern, but soft!”

Next was Herbology with the Ravenclaws. They arrived and Professor Sprout began lecturing in earnest, teaching about the different tools and techniques as Harry zoned out. He’d been growing these in the Potter greenhouse, which, like the potions lab, was avoided like the plague.

He scribbled in his notebook, theorizing the reactions of ingredients when paired with others. His latest potion, aside from a nerve healer was a werewolf potion, one that freed the change from the shackles of the full moon and left the mind but enhanced the senses of a Werewolf. He was, with Severus’ blessing, tearing apart the formula of the Wolfsbane potion and reworking it with ingredients that cause focus and break inhibitors. Some would call them drugs, like Elderoot. Elderoot is a controlled substance, only distributed to potions shops for brewing as it has euphoria-inducing and hallucinogenic properties, but it also loosens biological restrictions on one’s magical core; the root held several properties that when fused with others could free the transformation to become voluntary and invariably available to the wolf.

“Mr. Travent, what is the best way to re-pot a Mandrake?”

Harry looked up and spoke easily. “To re-pot a Mandrake, one must first have the proper auditory protection. As even an infantile mandrake’s cries can paralyze or drive one to the brink of insanity. You must pull them up suddenly, and set them in a bigger pot, pouring new soil on top until the mouth is covered. However, I have found in my own cultivation, that mandrakes are less likely to cry if dug up instead of pulled, and the less a mandrake cries the more potent its leaves and clippings are in brewing potions; the Mandrake uses its stored magic to imbue its cry and kill or paralyze.”

At the end of Harrison’s short speech, everyone was staring at him and the stout professor’s mouth was wide open. “Twenty points to Slytherin for a well thought out, researched, and thorough answer. I must ask, however, is that last bit true? They flourish better when dug up rather than pulled?”

“Yes, they do. When pulled up they lose many of their smaller roots and fibers, and of course loose magic crying from the pain, but when dug up carefully they keep the extra limbs and nutrients stored in them. They will mature faster, grow stronger, and, if cared for properly and given a sprinkling of moonstone dust upon their leaves in the last week, will grow more magically powerful and potent than any conventionally grown brother plant.”

The portly woman gawked and then caught herself, snapping her mouth closed and taking a breath before stating, “I will have to try that for myself then.”

“Feel free,” Harry murmured and went back to theorizing the reaction that would occur between Wolfsbane, Moonstone chips, Silver Flecks, Moly Petals, and Wiggentree Leaves. The wolfsbane obviously the ingredient to keep the mind of the wolf in check, the Moonstone chips calming the wolf and the man, merging their senses instead of separating foreign feelings, the silver flecks weakening the wolf enough to be controlled and the Moly flowers countering the effect of the silver on the wolf. The Wiggentree leaves would clear out the dark magic that forced the transformation, but not the wolf itself, which can’t be entirely removed. Letting the potion, once bottled in clear vials, sit in the full moon-light would empower it and imbue it with the wild magic that would trigger the transformation. Theoretically, this would imbue the werewolf with that power and allow them to transform at will.

But it would be unstable, the Moonstone and silver flecks would not combine sans-explosion without a strong stabilizer, and dragon’s blood would not work as it would burn the Wiggentree leaves and leave the potion little more than a Werewolf poison. Salamander blood and beetle eyes would only aggravate the Moly petals, disintegrating the bonds they would form and melting the potion, the cauldron, and likely the floor. Perhaps Ashwinder Egg mixed with Motherwort? That might work…

Harrison decided he would try that, hoping the healing properties of the two would combine and stabilize also helping with the transformations, he just had to make sure the Ashwinder eggs weren’t added directly before or after something organic. Likely they would need to be added between the Moonstone and silver flecks, so the reaction could not happen before the potion would be stable, the motherwort being added immediately after, of course.

His thoughts wandered to other ingredients that would have to be added and his mind stayed there until the end of class when they moved to lunch. He sat down, not particularly thinking of anything as he served himself small portions of food and grabbed a half-sandwich. He stood up sooner than everyone else and left for the charms classroom where he sat and waited for the end of lunch to arrive, preferring the silence.

When class started, they began on theory. The theory behind the levitation charm that Harry had been doing with nothing but intent since he was four. He sat down, scribbling in the spellcraft section of his notebook. He scribbled through wand movements and runes and arithmancy equations until he found a way to put the intent behind what he wanted to do into words and movements. He didn’t need them, but it would only be possible for others to replicate the spell with the crutch of silly incantations and conducting movements.

Eventually, like in Herbology, he was called upon for not paying attention and subsequently proved his knowledge of the subject. It was honestly getting pretty tiring, dealing with all the mundane. He did, however, smile as he walked into the transfiguration classroom, expecting that no matter how much the woman hated him, he would enjoy her class.

Upon the desk, sat a cat. Not just any cat, an animagus, something Minerva McGonagall was known to be. He smiled and nodded to the cat, as no one else was in the room. He asked her, “Mind if I join you? I make a wonderful Black Tiger.” The cat surprisingly nodded, and Harry transformed promptly, laying down mostly beside her desk hidden in shadow. When everyone walked in, McGonagall jumped off the desk and transformed and Harrison leapt from his hiding place, changing mid-air and landing beside his seat. He sat and the lesson began, McGonagall making it more than abundantly clear that any horseplay—by anyone, no matter their name—would not be tolerated.

They began with turning matchsticks into needles, which of course Harry completed immediately, earning ten points for Slytherin and a surprised look from McGonagall who asked what else he could do. He attempted to be modest. He did! But when you describe the process you took transfiguring a Nundu into a Kneazle it was hard to sound anything but proud.

When he was done the first words the Scottish woman spoke were: “and where exactly did you meet a Nundu?”

So, with the other students attempting the spell and trying to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping, Harry began the tale of stumbling into a Nundu’s territory when he was exploring a magical forest in Africa that hid from everyone it deemed unworthy. It was an African wizarding legend, that forest, and he had been lucky enough to explore it. But the Nundu had been anything but welcoming at first, and Harry had to wear it down with words and actions before it would even let him explain.

By the end of the story, the rest of the class wasn’t focussing at all and he had to state, rather loudly, “perhaps someone else has managed a needle? It is a simple spell if you have intent, after all.” McGonagall smiled and Harry thought that perhaps the outburst from him before his enrollment was forgiven.

It’s safe to say that he left that class in a better mood than he’d been in weeks; aside from his outings and brewing sessions with Severus, of course.


	8. Broomsticks and Blue Moon Howls

Once the first-years got settled into their core classes, the flying class was added to the load. From the Slytherin table, Harrison could see Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor shaking in his seat as he looked too queasy to eat his lunch. Harrison sat down and ate his lunch. As he finished, an owl swooped down to land in front of him.  _ Late post?  _ He thought,  _ unusual, but who could it be? _

It turned out to be one of the Werewolf packs, Kliffpack, they were requesting his presence over the full moon night. They cited new pups, too many for the mothers to keep track of, some mothers had had three pups and the amount of wolves leftover after assigning enough to the pups, wouldn’t be enough to hunt in the forest. He, of course, pulled a sheet of parchment and quill from his bag and charmed the quill to pen his acceptance as he ate. It was simple, acceptance and a request of detail.

After finishing his lunch, which was kept light, he made his way out to the clearing where they’d be having flying class. He found Madam Hooch there, setting out the brooms for the class.

Now, Harry prided himself on efficiency, and sometimes owl deliveries couldn’t cut it, so he had a broom, one he made himself. It flew faster than any Nimbus Co. broom could hope to. There were three models that he figured he could sell. The broomsticks themselves were streamlined, made from the wood of trees Harry grew himself, using magic, of course. The Elm trees he grew held magical power within them, as the way he grew them with potions enhanced them. He carved the runes himself and the brooms were through. He sold two of the three models differently and had the third exclusively to himself.

He, of course, called them The Thunder Trinity or the T-Trinity. The first, Lunar Reflection, was sold exclusively to creatures the ministry classified as “Dark.” The Reflection was the faster of the two publicly sold ones by a good twenty mph. This was so they could escape quickly from those hunting them wrongly. This broom was sold cheaper than the other, at a mere five Galleons, or perhaps even for favors instead. It was the quintessence of his favoritism toward the oppressed.

The second, slower by twenty mph, but still coming in at a good 140 mph, was Solar Corona, was sold to Witches and Wizards, anyone on the light side of the war. The broom wasn’t used for quidditch, however, Harrison hadn’t bothered giving them permission, perhaps he would, if only for the funding.

The broom he’s keeping for himself is the Eclipse. It comes in at an astounding two hundred miles per hour and had all manners of weaveable cloaking charms. Also shrinking so he could wear it around his neck, like now.

So, in conclusion to the tangent within his mind, Harry knew how to fly. So, naturally, he assisted the flying instructor in laying out the brooms and claimed the least damaged as his. Everyone else filed in and Neville was one of the first, not that he seemed excited. Harry took pity on the boy for his terror and after a moment called out, “Heir Longbottom!” Neville jumped, his whole body turned to face Harry and he approached almost as if he didn’t really know what he was doing as Harry beckoned him.

“Child of Potter house,” Neville nodded seriously if a bit absently.

“Technically it’s Lord Travent,” Harry began, then smiled and shook his head as Neville’s eyes widened as he opened his mouth to correct himself. “I figured since you’re so nervous I’d get you one of the better brooms and save it for you. I can also give you this advice: don’t let your fear of flying control you. The brooms sense the magical state of their riders, and magic is just emotion with intent. Be confident in yourself, Neville, and don’t let others’ words knock you down.” He ended with a smile and motioned towards the broom. Neville stepped forward, still shaky.

“Don’t worry Neville, a calm mind and you’ve already won half of this battle. Don’t be afraid to be early or late, just move with the flow. Act as if the broom is an extension of you.” Harry pushed some of his magic toward Neville and used it to smooth the agitated ripples in the boy’s core. The boy visibly relaxed as Hooch began the lesson and the class began in earnest.

Now calmer, Neville was pleasantly surprised when his broom jumped into his hand immediately when he said ‘up!’ The flying class went on without a hitch, flying higher and higher into the air the students were windswept and smiling until Neville’s remembrall, a gift from his ‘Gran,’ fell out of his pocket and towards the ground.

Not thinking, Harry dove. He felt the wind rushing past, no matter how slow the school broom was when compared to the Eclipse, and gripped the broom handle tightly with his left hand. He moved his right to the centre of the broom and pushed up suddenly, pulling the broom’s front up as his feet pushed the back down swiftly. His right hand extended low and plucked the little glass ball out of the air inches above the ground and then pulled up, remembrall clutched to his chest in a tight grip.

Everyone was silent for a solid seventeen seconds. Then the explosion happened. Everyone was yelling, except for the people who were still scared to be on their brooms, and Hooch flew up screeching, “what were you thinking?! You could have been hurt, or worse, killed!”

Harry leaned away from the banshee on a broom desperately hoping for an escape and was promptly granted one. “Rolanda,” Snape’s voice cut through the screeching in the tone that silenced classrooms that only he could pull off. “Mr. Travent has been flying an appreciatively faster broom than this for years and is quite a good acquaintance with a number of quidditch players. He knows how to fly, I’d be concerned if he didn’t.”

Harrison was forever grateful that Snape didn’t mention his deliveries, but that is to be expected from a spy; to say the bare minimum necessary without looking as if he was under sharing. Harry smiled, “Thank you, Severus.”

Snape nodded and spoke, confusing Harrison more. “I do need to speak to you, however.” Harrison dipped his head and followed.


End file.
